Dolly Gum
Sandra accepted the little pink cube, turning it over curiously.
“Dolly Gum,” repeated her new friend Rebecca, shouting to be heard over the throbbing Europop dance music. “Makes you feel really hot and sexy.”
“Where did you get it?” Sandra yelled back, still dancing a little to the beat.
“Jonah,” said Rebecca. “He said you could have it.”
Sandra shrugged. Gum that makes you feel really hot? Okay! She unwrapped the little cube and popped it in her mouth. A sweet bubblegum flavor gushed across her tongue at the first bite.
“You’ve tried it?”
“Couple times!”
They returned their attention to dancing. The swirling colored lights washed over everyone on the crowded dance floor.
Some guy was dancing next to Sandra, trying to impress her. Sandra wasn’t too impressed and he moved on. It was too loud to talk easily.
Sandra blew a bubble and popped it.
More dancing, more guys trying to get her attention.
When the DJ switched to one of the quieter songs, Sandra went for a drink. Rebecca was right, this gum was making her feel hot. Her nipples tightened and she felt pretty warm down in the crotch area. She flashed a smile at the attractive bartender as he slid the drink to her.
Sandra stood off to the side watching the dance floor, taking a sip now and then.
“You feeling it?” asked Rebecca, sitting at the table nearby with her own drink. Sandra turned and nodded, giving her a smile. “This is Dennis,” introduced Rebecca. “Dennis, my friend Sandra.”
“Hey, what’s up Sandra,” said Dennis, a blonde guy with a tight crew cut. Sandra gave him a little finger-wave. He was cute. But his arm was around Rebecca.
Sandra found out Dennis worked in construction and told him about the psychology master’s degree she was working on. But she was itching to get back on the dance floor.
She danced a little closer to the guys that approached her, right up into their personal space. Her breath caught as she felt one dance partner grab her ass. She was feeling really good. But she soon turned away from him, not wanting the dance to be over just yet.
Somebody said something to her. “Wha —?” Sandra replied with a confused smile. Whatever they said in return Sandra didn’t catch. It was okay, she just kept dancing. She pinched her nipples through her blouse because it felt good and they were so hard. Oh, wait, maybe she shouldn’t do that in public.
She kept grinding up against people a lot more. Was she grinding against them, or were they grinding against her? Is a zebra black with white stripes or white with black stripes? It was a puzzle. She pinched her nipples again.
Her dance partner—well, they weren’t dancing now, he was talking. Her dance partner was saying something to Rebecca. There was Dennis too. Rebecca said something to Sandra and Sandra just smiled. She couldn’t understand Rebecca.
They all, the four of them, ended up in a Chinese food place. Sandra was sitting in a guy’s lap. How did she get here? Oh, the guy must be her dance partner! Sandra wanted to dance, but they weren’t in the club anymore so she couldn’t. She wanted to rub herself but there was some reason she couldn’t do that either. The guy’s cock was pressing into the back of her skirt.
Rebecca took a picture of Sandra. Sandra wanted to smile for the camera but it wasn’t time to smile.
It wasn’t time to smile? Hmm. Sandra puzzled over that. Somebody was showing her a picture of somebody. On a phone. The girl in the picture had lips and eyes tinted neon-pink. The girl in the picture had a vacant expression, mouth half-open in a cute O-shape. Her tongue had bright neon undertones too.
Sandra would have giggled at the picture because the girl in it looked so dumb and plastic but it wasn’t time to giggle.
Somebody put a spoonful of fried rice in Sandra’s mouth and it was time to chew and swallow. She was so wet. Rebecca was saying something Sandra couldn’t make out. The guy put the spoon in Sandra’s hand and it was time to take the spoon. He guided Sandra’s hand to the plate of rice, and then back up to her mouth. Oh, it was time to eat!
Sandra watched as her own hand, all by itself, continued its motions from her mouth to the plate and back up again. A little rice spilled and Sandra wanted to clean it up but there was a reason she couldn’t do that.
There were a lot of things she couldn’t do right now. She puzzled over that as her hand continued its repetitive journey, plate to mouth to plate, until the rice was all gone, down into her belly. The spoon rested against the empty plate, still in her hand. It wasn’t time to put down the spoon until someone took it from her. Which they did, replacing it with a can of coke. Once they raised the can of coke to Sandra’s mouth, she discovered it was time to drink.
She was still really horny. It was actually pretty uncomfortable how hard her nipples were, how much she wanted to rub and pinch and squeeze them, how hot and dripping her vagina was, how much her body begged for some sort of touch. Why was she eating and drinking? She just wanted to fuck! It was hard to pay attention to anything else. She was sitting in somebody’s lap and she could feel his cock gently pressing against her thigh through her skirt. She looked at the crotch of the guy next to her. Her pulse raced and she breathed faster and her thoughts came slowly.
That was why she couldn’t understand what anyone was saying, Sandra decided. She was too horny to pay attention to anything but her tits and pussy. And that guy’s crotch. Yes, that must be it. Puzzle solved. She felt relieved.
She tried to rock her butt a little against the man’s lap. It was so hard to move for some reason but she could wiggle. Just a little. The cock pressing on her skirt got a little harder and two hands closed around her tits from behind and squeezed. Sandra grunted.
The other people were talking about something. They seemed tense. Someone put a lot of money on the table and Rebecca pocketed it.
Then they were all getting up and she couldn’t be in the man’s lap anymore. It was time to follow them. Sandra trotted along as they headed to the side of the restaurant. The two guys went one way. That was bad because she wanted their cocks. Rebecca took Sandra’s hand and led her the other way, and left her standing in front of a wooden door with a silhouette of a woman on it.
After a few seconds something clicked. This was a ladies’ room and she was meant to use it. Sandra-doll opened the door into the bathroom and went to the toilet. On the toilet, with her skirt and panties down she desperately wanted to rub her weeping crotch, but she couldn’t. Absolutely impossible. Her hands wouldn’t move that way no matter how she strained. It wasn’t time for that. Sandra’s doll body finished with the toilet and walked her over to the sink. Sandra caught a glimpse -
Oh! The girl from the phone picture stared back at her in the mirror. Light brown hair. Neon pink tinted eyes and lips. Mouth half-open in a vacant O-shape with a neon tongue visible inside.
So she was the girl in the phone picture, Sandra finally understood. Rebecca must have taken a picture of her with her phone and showed it to her. Happy with her moment of insight, Sandra left the bathroom, let the door shut, and then turned back around to face the bathroom door, in exactly the same position Rebecca had left her. Because that was where Rebecca had left her and so it was time to do that.
Another girl said something from behind her.
An odd thought struck Sandra. Why were Sandra’s eyes and lips neon pink? She wasn’t sure that was normal. She chewed on that question while the girl behind her got a little louder, still saying things. Eventually that girl pushed past Sandra into the bathroom.
Then a guy came and took her hand. Sandra followed him. She wondered if this was her dance partner. He took her to a car and it was time for Sandra-doll to get in the passenger seat. Now that she was thinking about it, Sandra sort of remembered traveling in a car from the nightclub to get to the Chinese place.
The guy started the car and put Sandra’s hand on his cock, guiding it up and down slowly a couple times. Sandra-doll’s hand got the idea and began to rub the guy’s cock slowly, as they drove across town.
They were in an apartment. The guy tore off Sandra’s clothes. He forced her down onto the bed, making her soft, supple flesh jiggle. He grabbed her arms and held them at her sides, his fingers indenting Sandra’s skin, as he thrust that stiff cock into her hole. Sandra had the idea that maybe they should have spent some time talking first. She also wished he would play with her nipples and tits. But all she could do was stare up blankly with her frozen pink O-face as his thrusts rocked her body, making it jiggle and making her cum.
Sandra came three times, squeaking a little like a rubber toy from the back of her throat, before the guy spurted into her.
Hmm. Sandra wanted to say something. It felt like the thing to do after sex. She opened her mouth—well, her mouth was already open.
After a bit she managed to say “uhh.” He said something in return she couldn’t make out. She said “uhh” again in what she hoped was an encouraging manner. She wanted more fuck.
Sandra-doll was on her knees on the carpet and he was fucking her mouth. How did she get here, she wondered. The guy held her head with two hands, alternately jamming her face onto his cock and sliding it back. Sandra’s mouth and tongue sucked zealously at the hard shaft, because it was time to do that.
Sandra had a moment of doubt. She’d only sucked cock once or twice on a past boyfriend’s birthday. She never liked it, only giving pleasure without receiving it. She didn’t like the yucky taste of semen. Maybe she should say something? Hmm.
The guy stiffened and came in her mouth and she squeaked like a toy and gulped it down without thinking. He rested his deflating cock in her mouth for a minute, before pulling her head back. A trail of cum dripped from her chin. Sandra’s mouth hung half-open again in its usual neon pink O, as if inviting him to go again.
Sandra expressed her reservations about sucking cock with a breathy, almost inaudible “uhh.”
He was fucking her pussy again, on her hands and knees on the bed. Dimly, Sandra recalled the guy taking a break and eating food from the fridge while he left Sandra kneeling on the carpet. Now she was on the bed, his stiff cock rhythmically driving her again towards orgasm. She came shuddering and squeaking a couple more times, still wishing he’d play with her tits more, beyond a few squeezes.
And then he was gone. Sandra remained on her bed for an indeterminate period of time, sperm leaking out of her, nipples contracted into hard, slightly painful nubs, pussy periodically squeezing on nothing. Her arousal had ramped up to greater levels then before. She needed to move! To masturbate! This was intolerable. How did she even get here? Her urgent needs pushing her to focus, Sandra tried to think back over the evening. She remembered—Oh, the Dolly Gum! That must explain everything, Sandra finally realized—the arousal, her pink lips and eyes, her lapses in memory. The... squeaking.
Shit, now what? Panicking a little, and thinking more clearly, Sandra found she was absolutely stuck. Still on her hands and knees, her legs spread wide, cartoonish pink mouth open to receive, she couldn’t move an inch. If she focused—really focused hard—she could barely tense a thigh muscle, but not enough to move the limb. (It wasn’t time for Sandra-doll to move, a stray thought murmured at the back of her mind.)
Fuck, was this permanent?
(It’s night, Sandra-doll is alone in bed, the stray thought murmured softly, so quietly Sandra didn’t even notice. It’s time to sleep.)
A wave of lethargy dragged Sandra down, down into darkness. She fought to stay alert, to think just a little about how to handle her situation, but she was so tired, so heavy.
She fell unconscious in the well-lit room, still frozen on her hands and knees, eyes twitching under the lids as she dreamed.
Sandra blinked her eyes open at the sun coming through the window. Ugh, how much did she drink last night? Her head was pounding.
She got up and headed to the bathroom, and blearily peed. She stood to pull the lever and—uh. She stared blankly at the pink toilet water. Pink? She had blood in her urine? No, it was more of a neon pink, actually, nothing like blood. Getting her sleepy brain in gear, she tried to think what could make urine that color of pink. Food coloring?
She looked in the mirror and saw her solid neon-pink eyeballs, looking vacant and mindless, above her gaping neon-pink mouth.
Disoriented and confused, Sandra clutched her pounding head. Was this a dream? She tried to think back. She stepped in the shower. Wait a second—this wasn’t her shower, was it?
Right, she was over at a guy’s place, that was why she was still naked. And they’d had sex—Sandra worried for a minute until she remembered she was on the pill. She tried to remember but she didn’t even know the guy’s name.
The warm water trickled down her skin and Sandra began washing, kind of on autopilot, which she put down to her sleepiness. Slowly Sandra pieced together some events. She’d taken “Dolly Gum” from her friend Rebecca in the dance club. As advertised, it had made her horny, she remembered that. She must have had too many drinks, because the rest of the night was a blur—eating Chinese food, going back to her place, fucking the guy whose name she did not know. Some kind of bondage play? Sandra remembered being super horny and trying to move and not being able to, but the details eluded her. The sex itself had been great, Sandra was pretty sure, heart pounding just thinking about it.
And the “Dolly Gum” had dyed her eyes and lips and tongue! Sandra clearly remembered looking in a mirror somewhere last night and seeing that.
Looking down, Sandra saw that same neon pink on her nipples and aureolae, too. And on her labia. As her head cleared under the cold water, Sandra was feeling increasingly upset and violated. Rebecca hadn’t told her about any bondage effect of the gum or any appearance changes! Sandra would have to wear dark sunglasses until the coloring went away. Assuming it wasn’t permanent. It couldn’t be permanent. Sandra refused to entertain the thought.
(Rebecca gave Sandra-doll the dolly-gum, something in her mind faintly murmured, so quietly Sandra didn’t notice at all. Rebecca is nice. We like Rebecca. We can’t be mad with Rebecca.)
It wasn’t all bad, though, Sandra decided as she toweled off and eyed herself in the mirror. Her neon pink body parts looked odd, garish and plastic. But eye-catching. People would stare at them. Desire her. She licked her neon lips with her neon tongue, weirded out but oddly attracted to her reflection in the mirror.
No one else was in the apartment when Sandra stepped out of the shower. And Sandra couldn’t find her clothes. Increasingly grumpy, Sandra turned everything upside down looking for them. They weren’t in bed, they weren’t behind the bed, they weren’t lost under the couch cushions. The closet had only a man’s clothes.
For a bit Sandra thought she should be more worried about this, especially since she didn’t remember everything that had happened last night. She didn’t feel too worried though. (No need for a Doll to worry, murmured something she didn’t notice). Sandra just thought she ought to worry. She found a sandwich in the fridge and ate it for breakfast. It wasn’t time to get dressed (huh?) but despite that, Sandra did eventually dress herself in a pair of shorts and a T-shirt she found in the closet, both much too large for her.
She didn’t have her cell phone or purse. Again she thought she should be more worried about this than she was. Sandra thought about just leaving. But she didn’t. (It isn’t time to leave, something in her mind faintly murmured beneath her notice.) She actually felt kind of nice. Sandra sat down by the window and looked at the view of the city below.
“Sorry, sorry!” The front door swung open and a guy walked in, apologizing apparently. What was he apologizing for?
“S-s-s—” Sandra had trouble speaking for a moment. She focused. “Sorrrry for whhat?” she slurred.
“Oh, shit, you’re already talking,” the guy observed. “Really sorry I’m so late, I hope I’m in time. There was, well, never mind. Here you go,” he said. He was handing Sandra a little pink cube, wrapped in paper. The paper was printed with neon-pink kissy lips.
“What’s this?” Sandra asked, then froze. She remembered last night. This little pink cube had to be more Dolly Gum. Wait a second, did she want another dose right now?
“I, uh, n- no thanks,” Sandra said, flustered, turning the pink cube over in her fingers. She stared at it. It seemed to call to her. Was it glowing? Sandra blinked and looked away for a moment, her gaze drawn back to it. No, it wasn’t glowing, it was just...
Her mouth was watering.
“Here, let me unwrap it for you,” said the guy. Sandra barely heard him, but when he went to take the gum back she closed her fingers around it possessively. He pried it out of her hand.
“N-no, don’t!” Sandra got her wits about her. “I feel—I feel kind of strange, this isn’t right. I want to go home.”
The guy acted as if he hadn’t heard her, unwrapping the gum.
“Don’t give it to me!” Sandra tried, as he held out his hand to offer the little pink cube back to her. She wanted it so much. It was taking all her willpower not to grab it.
The guy took her hand, opened her fingers, and pressed the little pink cube into them. Sandra swallowed saliva and stared at the gum. She couldn’t bring herself to drop it.
On a sudden impulse she popped it in her mouth. Relief flooded her instantly, now that she finally had what she craved. Dolly Gum.
Sandra didn’t have the willpower to spit it back out. She knew this was all wrong, but it tasted so good as she chewed the soft, juicy gum. She couldn’t get enough of that strong fruity scent, filling her sinuses. She let out an odd rubber squeak from the back of her throat.
“I’m, uh, I’m going home,” Sandra stood up, still chewing. She went to the door and the guy didn’t stop her. She didn’t leave, though. (It’s not time to leave, that tiny voice in the back of her mind murmured.) She felt like maybe she was forgetting something. She had on the guy’s oversized shirt and shorts, but...
Right, of course she couldn’t leave without shoes on. Sandra went to the closet and took a pair of sandals, much too big for her. She flip-flopped back to the door. The guy was off to the side, just watching to see what she’d do.
Sandra raised her hand to the door knob, still chewing. She blew a bubble.
It wasn’t time to leave, Sandra realized. Wait, why wasn’t it time to leave? She had her shoes on and she wanted to leave, didn’t she?
Fuck, she was turned on, she thought distractedly. She grit her teeth, staying focused.
After a minute standing there she built up her willpower to just do it. She grabbed the door knob and turned it. Everything in her mind was telling her that it was wrong to open the door, it wasn’t time, but she pulled the door open anyway.
Now she had to take a step. Outside. It wasn’t time to leave, though. She chewed the pink gum.
She did it. She took a step outside.
She took another step. She was outdoors in the open sunlight. There was a pathway down to the driveway. A green lawn.
The guy stepped out beside her and Sandra turned to look at him. She wanted his cock. Fuck, she had to stop thinking about that! She was trying to get away from him right now. She stared at the tented crotch of his jeans. Well, just looking wouldn’t hurt. Her mouth watered as she chewed the gum.
Sandra began to take halting steps in her flip-flops down the path toward the street. It was so hard to tear her eyes away from the guy’s crotch and she kept forgetting. Each step was wrong because it wasn’t time to walk, and she was so horny and the gum was so juicy and good. The guy was keeping pace with her. Halfway down the path she just couldn’t. She couldn’t take another step. Something inside her was screaming in panic but she didn’t know why. It was so hard to think.
The guy asked her something. She couldn’t understand what he had said. Sandra stared at him vacantly with neon-pink eyes, chewing the gum between slack neon-pink lips.
The guy took Sandra’s hand and led her somewhere.
A thick cock was in the dolly’s mouth. Whose cock was it? She vaguely recalled that she never liked sucking cock. But it wasn’t time to stop. It was time to suck the cock and that’s what she had to do. Sandra bobbed her head until the cock spurted in her mouth, making her squeak like a rubber toy in surprise. It tasted gross but she had to swallow it. (But why do I have to swallow it?) She wrinkled her nose. Having swallowed it, a strange blush of pleasure and satisfaction spread out from her belly. What the fuck?
She was standing in the corner. Someone was on the phone nearby. Sandra stared at his naked crotch. She wanted to get fucked. She wanted to ask if he would fuck her.
Sandra’s head was pounding. Where was she? She was... she was sitting on a couch, naked. Had she been asleep with her eyes open? She stared glassily across the room at a plant. Was it a plastic plant? Sandra stared at the waxy leaves, mouth open.
Halfheartedly she raised her hands slightly, wanting to rub at her throbbing forehead, but put them down again. It didn’t feel right somehow? It wasn’t... time to move yet. Her head pounded. She wanted a drink of water. For a moment she had the image of a warm, succulent cock squirting down her throat, making her squeak, slaking her thrist. She blinked—how disgusting! But, strangely alluring? She tried to think about anything else.
She felt like she’d been staring at that plant for a long time. Ugh, what was wrong with her? She couldn’t seem to get her brain in gear. Was that a plastic plant? She stared at the waxy leaves, mouth open.
After a long time Sandra blinked. She had a headache. How long had she been sitting here? Where was she, anyway? Was that plant plastic? No, wait, she had more important things to worry about. She had to... (gum, a stray thought flickered, beneath her notice, she needed pink gum)... she had to... well, she had to use the bathroom. It was time to use the bathroom.
Like a switch had been flipped, Sandra jerked out of her torpor. It was time to use the bathroom. She stood up and headed in that direction.
“Whose house is this?” Sandra wondered. She passed a painting on the wall and didn’t recognize it. Somehow she did know where the bathroom was, though. It was time to use the bathroom. She relieved herself and washed her hands. As she did so she became increasingly self-conscious about the fact that she was naked in a house she didn’t know. How did she get here? She had to find some clothes! The stray thought occurred to her that it wasn’t time to put on clothes. What, where did that idea come from?
Increasingly distressed and confused, Sandra wasn’t prepared to meet her naked reflection in the bathroom mirror. A little shriek escaped her throat. Who was that! What the heck, that wasn’t her! But it wasn’t time to stare at her reflection. She was thirsty enough so it was time to drink. Still naked, Sandra headed off to where she somehow knew she would find a drink. As she did, her mind whirled, trying to make sense of what she had briefly seen in the mirror. Neon-pink plastic-looking lips in a shade she’d never apply herself, the same garish coloring on her nipples, and strangest of all, on her eyeballs. Her empty-looking neon pink eyeballs. An utterly blank, unwrinkled, dumb-looking face. It was the empty expression that really got to her. What the fuck was going on! It had to be a... a prank, somehow. The features she’d briefly seen in the mirror reminded her of a plastic blow-up doll. Someone had set up a computer screen in place of the mirror to play a joke on her.
Something stirred deep inside at the thought of a blow-up doll and Sandra blinked at the realization she was becoming aroused. She shook her head a little. Anyway, she’d arrived in the kitchen where... she could find a drink...
Sandra walked right past the sink, though she was very thirsty and water would be delicious. It wasn’t time to drink water. What the fuck, why wasn’t it time to drink water? Sandra opened the fridge. There was juice and soda and milk and... and it wasn’t time... to drink juice or soda or milk. Sandra’s own thoughts weren’t making any sense to her. She found herself pulling out a different container of something from the fridge door. She closed the fridge and saw what she held in her hand.
It was... a glass bottle. But the cap was shaped like a fucking rubber dildo, eight inches long. She could see a white, viscous liquid swishing inside the bottle. It looked like semen. Revolting. But she was thirsty and it was time to drink. Why couldn’t she just drink water, instead of this? Hardly believing she was doing this—not fully understanding why she was doing this, or where she was or what was even happening—Sandra tilted the bottle up.
Gingerly, she touched the rubber cock-head on the bottle to her lips. This was both disgusting and demeaning, so why was she doing it? (A Doll shouldn’t worry, murmured something unnoticeable.)
Sandra tilted the bottle up high so the liquid would flow into her mouth. But it didn’t flow. Aha! She had the relieved thought that the dildo must be just a solid cap, and she just had to unscrew it to get the liquid out, she wasn’t meant to actually put the dildo in her mouth.
Sandra was about to lower the bottle to do that, when it occurred to her that it was time to suck. She didn’t want to suck but it was time to suck so she had to. Her neon-pink eyes went wide with dismay, and she closed her lips tightly around the cock-head and took a draw.
Still nothing was coming out but she wasn’t sucking hard enough and it was time to suck harder. Sandra worked her tongue and cheeks hard and at last a tiny little squirt came out of the dildo into her mouth. Sandra immediately blushed hard and let out a squeak because the squirt tasted like semen. She was all alone, no one could see her, but that didn’t stop the shame of what she was doing.
But she couldn’t stop sucking. It wasn’t time to stop sucking. In fact, to Sandra’s dismay, it was time to take the dildo deeper into her mouth. The thick liquid flowed into her mouth only in tiny, tiny little squirts when she sucked really hard. It was so hard to get it to come out.
Suddenly, Sandra realized it wasn’t right to be standing up while doing this. She had to get on her knees to suck a cock. It was time to get on her knees. She made a defeated groan of protest in the back of her throat, wishing she didn’t have to do this, but she sank to her knees on the kitchen tiles nonetheless, sucking on the rubber cock-spout in her mouth.
It took ages to get the thick, white, semen-tasting liquid out, teeny-tiny squirt by teeny-tiny squirt. The muscles of her tongue, cheeks, and jaw were sore from the effort required. Occasionally Sandra found she could stop and rest for a minute, but that was temporary. She realized after a while, with disgust, that some of the liquid was running out of the corners of her mouth, down her chin and neck. The little rivulet slowly dripped off her chest onto the tile.
Most humiliating of all was that Sandra could feel her body becoming more and more physically aroused. Somehow this was turning her on and she sure didn’t like it.
During this time Sandra had started to figure out what was going on. It had to be some kind of a sex game. Someone had hypnotized her or drugged her, made her do this and made her forget how she got here. There was no other explanation. It was probably someone she knew. Had Sandra... asked for this to happen to her? She blushed harder at the possibility. She didn’t have a current boyfriend... or to be more accurate she didn’t remember having a current boyfriend. That could be part of it too.
It was still very gross and humiliating. As soon as whatever-this-was was over, she was going to have some angry words for whoever he was.
Stewing in her anger, still deep-throating the dildo and sucking little drops of the gross liquid from the now half-full bottle, Sandra found that her arousal was becoming harder to ignore. No one was watching... or were they? Maybe they were, the pervert. Either way, Sandra let her other hand drift towards her wet slit. She had to, she was too horny, she had to deal with it. Nonetheless, Sandra flushed in fresh shame. She rubbed her clit as she sucked on the dildo, blushing hard but not stopping.
After many minutes she managed to bring herself off to orgasm with a squeak, grossly humiliated by what she had done.
A few minutes after that she had finally emptied the bottle. What now? Sandra looked down at the puddle between her legs. No.
Yes, it was time to lick up the spilled drips from the tiled kitchen floor. She was practically going to kill whoever had set this up. She didn’t care if it was a “prank” or an erotic scenario she’d been dumb enough to ask for, she was going to give them a piece of her mind. This was too far.
Sandra put the empty bottle in the dish washer and realized it was... time to go sit down. On the couch.
“This isn’t funny at all, you bastards!” Sandra wanted to say—the problem was, it wasn’t time to talk. When she remembered that, her words trailed off into an inaudible, garbled mumble. Sandra sat down on the couch, facing the plant again and feeling very put-out.
She really should get up. There was no point playing along with this stupid game.
She wondered if that plant was real or fake.
She really should get up, she thought some time later.
At some point, significantly later, the door opened and a man walked in.
“Good, good!” the man said, seeing Sandra still naked on the couch, exactly where he left her. Sandra squeaked like a chew toy, freshly aware of her nakedness, covering her private parts with her hands. “Wh—” Sandra started to say (but it wasn’t time to talk). Sandra swallowed saliva and tried again with more focus. “Wh... Wh... Wha... What the —” she managed to say, the words coming out haltingly in strangled squeaks. Because it wasn’t time to talk. She shouldn’t be talking. She shouldn’t have talked.
“Shh, shh, no, it’s okay,” said the man, touching Sandra’s arm. His touch was like electricity on her skin. All the determined focus Sandra had built up trying to speak went out the window. She gaped at the man.
“You just need some more gum,” said the man, unwrapping a little pink cube. Sandra stared at it. It seemed to fill her vision. (gum, something insisted, she needed pink gum.) Fresh drool gushed out of the corner of her mouth. Something was very strange about this whole situation.
The man pressed the gum between Sandra’s lips. She bit down and chewed (it was time to chew the gum). She breathed deeply, the fruity bubblegum scent everything that was right about the world. She remembered something was wrong but she didn’t remember what. She chewed and blew a bubble that popped over her lips, and pulled the bubble back into her mouth. She was really wet all of a sudden, she noticed. She chewed the gum and looked dumbly at the man.
The man picked up Sandra-dolly—his touch was electric, wiping out all thought. He put Sandra-dolly on the bed and lay on top of her. His fingers dug into her waist and he slammed his hips against her. Sandra-dolly chewed the gum because it was time to chew gum, and the man penetrated her, and everything was pink.